


Starting Point

by nightbaron079



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1960452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbaron079/pseuds/nightbaron079
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love starts in many ways. Some more unconventional than others, but each eventually taking their own course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Point

**Author's Note:**

> Seasons are assigned according to how Japanese dramas are classified (from my knowledge). So Winter = January-March, Spring = April-June, Summer = July-September, Autumn= October-December. This is a work of fiction. Characters are not mine. Plot and the way characters are portrayed are made thus for the purpose of this creative work of fiction. Made for the 2014 Yamajima Summer Exchange.

**2016, WINTER**

He was alone in the coffee shop, a regular tucked into a window seat corner with a laptop and papers spread out in front of him. Even the new waitress knew well enough not to disturb him as they quietly refilled his coffee cup and brought his orders to his table (arranged a long time ago with the owner, his favorite meals from the cafe brought at regular intervals and paid for before he leaves). From time to time he looked up from his keyboard, noting the arrival of people into the shop and jotting down details he found interesting.

_2:33PM The university girl has arrived with her own laptop and occupies her regular table at the other end of the shop. Her thick blue scarf covers half her face, but she still nods at me when our eyes meet. It's nice when people acknowledge your existence. It looks like she's cramming another paper; her book bag is bulging and I'm afraid her shoulder would snap any moment._

_5:30PM The chess-playing grandfathers two tables down get fetched by their wives who just came from their book club. It seems like they're reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being this week. The chess scores are a draw again; I don't know how they could play the whole day and still end up with the same scores._

_5:45PM Writer's block. Writing down memos like this isn't helping me finish any faster. If Ryosuke were here he would have kicked my couch leg by this point and forced me to write a thousand more words, even if it's meaningless dialogue._

_6:01PM I miss him._

_6:27PM The owner of the coffee shop is approaching my booth. This isn't looking good._

He sighed and closed his laptop, bracing himself for another lecture as a tall, pale guy approached his table, eyebrows laced together in visible concern.

"Yuto-kun. It's getting late and you haven't even touched your food. You've been here since we opened," the owner of the cafe said. "Does it taste bad?"

Yuto laughed softly, shaking his head. "The taste hasn't changed since you first made the recipe, Inoo-kun. I'm sorry, I just didn't feel like eating; I guess I was too busy thinking. Don't worry, I'll still pay for it."

Inoo shook his head as well. "You don't eat and you stare at your laptop all day and yet you don't finish anything. How am I supposed to be not worried about you, then?"

"It's writer's block," Yuto mumbled, but even to his ears the lie sounded lame.

"I'm not going to say anything about you two, but whatever's happening doesn't give you an excuse to neglect yourself. I can't speak for him too, but he'll probably be worried if you don't eat," Inoo said. A corner of Yuto's lips lifted in a grateful smile as he nodded at Inoo.

"Thanks, Inoo-kun. I'll eat, I promise," he said, adding the last bit for the older guy's benefit as Inoo leveled a look at his direction. Inoo stared at him for a long moment before nodding, grasping Yuto's shoulder tightly before going back behind the counter. The smile stayed on Yuto's face as he went back to his laptop, but it quickly faded away when he looked down on his notes and saw his name again.

**2010, WINTER**

"Are we even allowed in here?" Yuto asked nervously as they tried to make themselves invisible against the back wall of the pub. There was an open mic event that night, and Chinen has done everything in his power (bribing, pleading, and asking cutely to get what he wants) to make Yuto go with him. There wasn't anything much he could do but tag along, but he never really had much of a choice whenever Chinen was involved (like how they became best friends from the first day of kindergarten when Chinen asked for all his crayons and Yuto gave them all to him. Chinen drew him a picture and broke the black crayons because "he didn't like sad colors for Yuto-kun". Ever since, calling Yuto by his first name and being best friends was just natural).

"Don't worry, it's open mic for a reason. And we have tickets, it's not like we're sneaking in," Chinen said reassuringly. "Plus, it's a nice experience for you. You always write all those angsty poetry at the back of your notebooks, and open mics are good platforms for hearing spoken word get performed."

 With his small built, Chinen could easily make himself comfortable on the chairs and tables pushed towards the back to make room for the small stage in front. Yuto, all gangly arms and legs, was still growing into his height, and kept awkwardly bumping into the older customers and bowing in apology. Chinen pulls him down to a seat, and despite being at the back they had a great view of the stage.

"Who are we watching here again?" Yuto clarified, and Chinen sighed in defeat as he lauches into one of his speeches.

"They're a duo called Ohmiya SK. They're actually a part of a group called Arashi, but they sometimes perform in events like this with just the two of them. Usually they mess around but when they perform, their aura changes and every performance is an awesome experience. My whole family's a fan of Arashi, and you'll understand if you just _listen_ to their songs that I put in your computer—”

Here Chinen got cut off by a soft smattering of applause as the host takes the stage. The man was wearing some sort of purple-sequined jacket that reflected the light from the ceiling into tiny violet pinpricks across the room.

"That's Matsumoto Jun. He's part of Arashi too," Chinen whispered to Yuto.

"His jacket is so cool," Yuto replied, looking hypnotized as he stared at Jun.

"Welcome to tonight's open mic! I'm Matsumoto Jun, your host for tonight. Are you ready?" he asked the small crowd, getting cheers and applause as replies. Chinen shifted excitedly in his seat as Jun called the members of Ohmiya SK onto the stage. Ohno Satoshi looked like he was half-asleep as he waved at the crowd, and Ninomiya Kazunari smiled shyly as he tuned his guitar before their performance. After Ninomiya (nicknamed by everyone, it seems, as Nino) and Ohno performed a medley of songs entitled "Gimmick Game" and "Rain", Yuto finally understood how Chinen felt, and was clapping as loudly as his friend when they finished. They bowed graciously and gave the floor back to Jun and his sparkly purple jacket.

"Thank you very much, Ohmiya SK! Our next performance is a rendition of Kinki Kids’ Ai no Katamari. Is everybody ready?” Jun asked again. The crowd laughs and cheers as the next act walked up the stage. Chinen was still gushing about the last performance, but Yuto’s attention was focused on the next performer. The boy looked like he was around his and Chinen’s age, and he was still small enough to not easily reach the microphone set for the height of an adult. Removing the microphone from its stand, he cleared his throat nervously and scanned the crowd. Yuto thought their eyes met for a second or two, but he couldn’t be sure. After taking a deep breath, the boy closed his eyes. The piano instrumental of “Ai no Katamari” started playing, and Chinen pulled at Yuto’s sleeve to point to a tall, pale guy playing it live on a grand piano tucked into the corner of the pub. Yuto barely noticed him though, his whole attention focused on the boy on the stage as he began to sing.

The song was familiar, the melody and the words all coming to his memory easily, but the way he heard it sung that night was something entirely different from everything he had ever heard. The performer’s voice was yet to be touched or changed by puberty, and while he started the song with a soft voice it rang clearly across the whole pub. The way his eyes talked while he sang made Yuto unconsciously hold his breath while the boy was singing. It was like everything else disappeared but the light illuminating the person on the stage and him.

Yuto never really understood the meaning of the word “breathtaking”, but watching that Ai no Katamari performance made him think twice.

 

All too soon the performances for the night were over, and Yuto was clapping quietly, still in deep thought. Chinen didn’t seem to notice the absence of Yuto’s attention as he plotted ways to sneak off backstage and possibly meet the members of Ohmiya SK, but as long as Yuto nodded in all the right places he looked like he was safe. It was only when he noticed small violet spots of light dancing across his vision did he snap back into attention, in addition to Chinen painfully gripping his arm. Matsumoto Jun was approaching them, removing his sparkly jacket as he went. He smiled at the people calling his name, often pausing to talk to them before finally ending up in front of Chinen and Yuto.  
“Thank you for coming to tonight’s event! You’re… Chinen-kun, right?” Jun asked. Chinen, unable to speak, nodded his head, mouth wide open in surprise.

“He’s a huge fan of your group,” Yuto supplied helpfully, seeing that Chinen was in no state to talk. Jun grinned at Chinen as he nodded again, then turned to Yuto’s direction.

“Thanks, kid. And you are…?” he asked; not in the condescending tone that adults usually have, but in a way that made anyone listening think that he was genuinely interested.

“Nakajima Yuto, sir. I was kidnapped for moral support, but now I’m a fan,” Yuto said politely, bowing towards Jun’s direction. Jun smiled, obviously delighted.

“Say, want to go backstage to meet the rest?” he suddenly asked Yuto and Chinen. “Since everyone’s here, let them speak for themselves. They’ll do a better job of promoting themselves and our group.”

“Are we allowed to—of course we do,” Yuto said, answering for both of them. Chinen was gripping his arm tighter as he nodded excitedly. Yuto let him chatter excitedly at Jun, only answering when he was asked a question, letting Chinen enjoy the moment. They went backstage, where Yuto and Chinen met the rest of Arashi (with Yuto whispering to Chinen to remind him to not lose his cool) and enjoyed a few minutes of conversation. Jun was surprised when he learned that both of them were going to the same high school he previously attended and was eager to ask questions about old teachers and the school campus. The other two members, Sakurai Sho and Aiba Masaki, asked about their university choices and future plans, while Chinen engaged the attentions of Nino and Ohno. Yuto kept looking around the staff dressing room that was used as the waiting place of the performers’ of tonight’s event, obviously looking for somebody.

“Matsumoto-san?” he asked uncertainly.

“Hm?”

“That boy who performed Ai no Katamari, have you seen him?”

“Ah, he went home right after all the performances ended. He said something about a soccer match tomorrow, but he greeted everyone properly. He’s a good kid; he’s around your age, I think,” Jun said. “Why? Do you know him?”

“Ah, it’s not that. I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted to say it was a great performance,” Yuto said. He was a bit disappointed that he didn’t have a chance to talk to the boy personally, but a tiny part of him was glad that at least he had saved himself from an embarrassing episode of stumbling over his own words; he wasn’t even really sure what he would say even if they did meet. Jun angled a thoughtful look at Yuto before grinning.

“If I remember correctly, his name’s Yamada Ryosuke. I’ve seen him attend poetry slams a few times before, so I was a little surprised that he sang today. I thought he would recite a poem or something.”

“Yamada Ryosuke-kun…” Yuto said, letting the name hang in the air of the dressing room.

 

“Ne, Chii,” Yuto said. They were walking to the train station together, and the lamps that lined the street gave them a safe road towards home. “Thanks for asking me to come with you.”

“Sure,” Chinen answered, a little surprised on how serious Yuto sounded. “I should be thanking _you_ though. You’re like a lucky charm, we even got _invited_ backstage.”

“Aiba-san and Sakurai-san said they recognized you from a few live houses they did before. I think it was Ninomiya-san who pointed you out to them tonight,” Yuto said with a grin as Chinen’s face brightened with a smile of total bliss. They walked in silence until Chinen, with a mischievous poke at Yuto’s thin arm with his elbow, spoke with the air of someone plotting out an evil plan for world domination. Since it was Chinen, this could be not far from the truth.

“I heard you ask for that person who performed after Ohno-kun and Ninomiya-kun,” he said, a sly smirk on his face.

“It’s a free country,” Yuto said, the tips of his ears turning red. “And hey, he’s a really good performer.”

“Yeah, he was really good,” Chinen agreed, surprising Yuto this time. Coming from Chinen, that was a huge compliment. “It was like he was acting with the song. I guess he’d be a good actor someday.”

“I think so too,” Yuto said. “He’ll be awesomely famous someday.”

“So would you,” Chinen answered, meeting Yuto’s surprised look. “I’ve read the things you’ve written. You’re good at what you do, Yuto-kun. You just have to believe in yourself and let the rest of the world know.”

Yuto buried his face into the scarf wrapped around his neck.

“I guess so…” he answered doubtfully. Chinen snorted, as if he couldn’t understand the concept of lack of self-confidence.

“Mark my words. You’ll be legendary.”

“You just wanted to quote How I Met Your Mother.”

“And I’m awesome and everyone should believe what I say. That’s all the proof you need. Okay?”

“Okay. If you say so.”

“I know so.”

“Okay.”

 

 

 

**2011, SPRING**

Yuto and Chinen burst into the pub as the last poet finished performing her piece. They bent over, their loud attempts at gasping for extra air hidden under an even louder round of applause. Chinen recovered first, looking at his watch as Yuto straightened up to check the clock hanging on the wall behind the bar.

“We didn’t… make it…” Chinen said, still breathing heavily as Yuto closed his eyes and bent over his knees in exhaustion and defeat.

“Of all the days… for the train to break down… darn it…” Yuto panted out. “Why… are all these poetry slams… so _far_ … from where we live.”

“It didn’t help that cram school ended late today,” Chinen said. He was still looking around, though they both know they won’t find the person they’re looking for. He seemed to have noticed someone and approached a tall, pale-skinned guy. He was wearing the uniform of the pub they were in, and he was holding a sheaf of sheet music in hands.

“Excuse me, have you noticed a guy around our age tonight? He might have performed something too,” Chinen asked.

“Ah, you must be talking about Yamada-kun. He left early, seems like he had a casting call, and I think he has a curfew too,” the pub employee replied.

“Thank you… Inoo-san,” Chinen said, quickly reading from the name tag on his chest. He jogged back to where Yuto was standing.

“Seems like your theory was right… he left early again,” Chinen reported. Yuto sighed but nodded; he was grateful that Chinen never questioned him as they went to all the poetry slams they could find, looking for a person they barely even know and has probably no idea that they existed. Yamada was gaining a small group of fans, and he has been performing in different poetry clubs. Strangely, he never wrote any of the spoken word poems he had performed; rather, the writers give him the pieces and asked him to perform it in their stead. This was usually done by writers who are petrified of the idea of standing up on stage but wanting to have their works shared to everyone. Yamada has graciously accepted all these offers and was often heard of telling the writers that it was good practice for him as well. He gave all the poems he performed justice, infusing it with all the right emotions and his own personal twist of his understanding of the piece. It never felt like a recitation when Yamada says poetry; it truly was a performance.

The pub employee must have noticed them standing in the middle of the pub looking lost and approached the both of them, sheet music still in his hands.

“Sorry about Yamada-kun, you guys. He always leaves early. Would you like to leave him a message?” he asked. Chinen immediately pulled out a black notebook from his bag that Yuto recognized as his own.

“How did you get that—” Yuto began before Chinen, rifling through the pages, stopped and tore a page from the notebook. “Hey, what are you doing, that’s _mine_ —”

“Oh be quiet, Yutti,” Chinen snapped, before handing it to a seemingly unperturbed Inoo. “Could you ask Yamada-san if he would be willing to perform this piece for my friend here? He’s very shy but he writes great stuff and—”

“I understand,” Inoo said, placing the torn notebook page at the top of the pile of papers he had in his hands. Despite the crazy turn of events, a small part of Yuto’s brain liked how Inoo didn’t read through the poem or comment about his writing. He hated how people sometimes did that without even beginning to truly understand a piece of writing first. “I’ll give it to him the first thing when he comes around.”

“Do you know when he’ll show up next?” Chinen asked. Inoo lifted his shoulders in a delicate shrug.

“He doesn’t exactly have a schedule, but rest assured this would be in safe hands until he gets it,” he said, raising the papers he had in his hands. He turned to Yuto.

“Did you sign this?” he asked. Yuto shook his head. “Would you like to leave a name or anything?”

“I’ll do it,” Chinen said before Yuto could reply or even think, pulling out a pen and scrawling out “Nakajima Yuto” underneath the poem. “Thanks a lot, Inoo-kun.”

“No problem. Tell you what, when I’m here and you guys aren’t around when he performs this I’ll take a video for you. I like how he performs, anyway,” Inoo said.

“That’ll be great. Thank you very much, Inoo-kun,” Chinen said. Glancing at his watch, he began pulling Yuto out of the pub. “Come on, Yutti, we’ll miss the train.”

“Take care!” Inoo called out after them. Yuto managed a wave with the arm that Chinen wasn’t pulling at before he got completely dragged out of the pub, the door slamming close behind them.

 

“Are you angry with me Yutti?”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you not talking to me?”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“You have been glaring at the window above my head while talking to me. I’m sorry, alright? Please don’t be mad,” Chinen said. “Who would I eat lunch with if you ignore me and not let me talk about Arashi?”

Yuto huffed and let a smile break through his lips, making Chinen grin.

“I’m not really angry. I’m just… upset, I guess,” he said. Chinen sighed audibly and Yuto raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, sorry. But Yutti makes me really sad sometimes,” Chinen said. “You have all this _talent_ and you hide it in that black notebook of yours. Even I won’t get to read anything you write if you don’t always forget that notebook in my house. And I know you let me steal that notebook sometimes, just to shut me up from suggesting to send it to magazines.”

“Well, I’d call it more of _threatening_ than suggesting though,” Yuto said. He looked out at the glimmering Tokyo cityscape outside the moving train window.

“The point is, Yutti, you really have to believe in yourself. You’re depriving yourself from reaching for your dreams. You have long arms; why don’t you try stretching them out to try and take what makes you happy?”

Yuto didn’t answer, and Chinen didn’t press him to speak unless he wanted to.

“Thanks for doing that, though,” he whispered. “I need all the pushes you give me.”

Chinen grinned at the window. “You’re welcome. I gave one of my favorite poems; I have excellent taste.”

 

“You could sit with Shida-san you know. You’re partners in the discipline committee and all.”

Chinen made a face. “Mimi is pretty, but she’s pretty scary too. Plus, she has a boyfriend. I don’t want to be in the middle of all the flirting.”

“What about Suzu-chan?”

“First-name basis _and_ a nickname, I see. But nah. She likes somebody else, though he’s pretty stupid to not notice. She likes me enough, but I don’t want to interrupt her reading time during lunch. Everyone likes me, though.”

“Forget I said anything. I’ll sit with you in lunch until graduation. I’ll protect the rest of the population from your pheromones and your alarming abundance of self-confidence.”

“A huge loss.”  
“It is too late and I’m too tired to question our friendship.”

“You can sleep on my shoulder.”

“I’ll get a neck cramp.”

“Not my fault you’re too tall.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Either you’re just pretending to sleep so you won’t have to make a height joke or you’re really asleep… Yutti?”

Chinen laughed and settled into his seat, making sure that Yuto doesn’t bang his head on the wall of the train.

 

 

 

**2011, SUMMER**

“I’m doomed,” Yuto groaned, facedown on a table in a family restaurant near their cram school. It was the first day of summer vacation, and somehow Chinen thought it was a nice idea to do their summer homework as soon as possible. Yuto was holding a slightly crumpled piece of paper in his hands, the only visible source of his misery.

“It’s not the end of the world, Yutti, it’s just a mock exam,” Chinen mumbled, distracted by the chemical equation he was trying to balance.

“But with these results, I won’t be able to get into Toudai with you,” he said, voice muffled from his face being firmly planted onto the wood of the table. “The only stuff I passed are the humanities sections, and that won’t be enough. My parents would disown me.”

“They won’t, but they would probably ground you for life if you don’t graduate from high school. That won’t happen if you start doing your homework as soon as possible,” Chinen said, tapping on the table near Yuto’s head. “Starting now.”

“I’m too depressed to memorize the one hundred numbers of pi or balance chemical equations,” Yuto said, raising his head to look at all the textbooks and papers Chinen had spread in front of him.

“Look at it this way; you failed an exam you aren’t even qualified to take yet. We’re supposed to take the mock exam at the beginning of our third year; we’re barely halfway through our second year. Passing all the humanities sections is a huge achievement. You still have a year and a half to study for the real thing, it’ll be alright,” Chinen said.

“Says the person who passed everything with flying colors,” said Yuto mutinously, pushing Chinen’s eraser around the surface of the table. “Can’t we go to the beach instead?”

Chinen’s response was to hit him on the head with his pencil.

“OW. That hurt!”

“Good. Maybe the pain will wake you up to your stupidity.”

“Why’d you hit me for? I was joking!” he asked, rubbing at the sore part on the top of his skull.

“Because you were being stupid, and going to the beach right now won’t help you pass your exams,” Chinen scolded, eyes glued to his textbook. Yuto sighed and pulled out his own books and opening them to the dreaded practice problems.

 

“I feel like I’m getting more stupid by the minute,” Yuto declared half an hour later, now facedown on his chemistry book. Chinen leaned back and closed his own chemistry book, rubbing his eyes.

“I feel like my brain dried up,” Chinen said.

“Juice? I’ll pay,” Yuto said. The grin on Chinen’s face was enough of an answer.

“Thanks Yutti!” he called out as Yuto walked to the counter.

 

He was turning back towards their seats when someone outside the coffee shop across the street caught his attention. A familiar guy was sipping from a cup of iced coffee. Yuto said his name, even if he was inside the restaurant and the other person was already getting in a taxi.

“Yamada-san…”

Chinen had gotten up from their table and jogged to Yuto’s side.

“Are the drinks that heavy? You’ve been standing there for five minutes,” Chinen said, experimentally poking at Yuto’s arm and not getting any reaction. “Earth to Yutti?”

“Uh, what?” Yuto said, finally going back down to reality. He turned to Chinen, looking surprised that he was standing next to him.

“Come on big guy, the ice’s gonna melt,” Chinen said, steering Yuto back to their seat.

 

 

 

**2011, SUMMER**

Yuto was waiting for Chinen in the coffee shop across the street from the restaurant they were in a few days back, spinning a mechanical pencil between his fingers absentmindedly as he tried to work through more of his summer homework. A waiter approached him to give him a glass of water and the menu.

“Thank you,” Yuto said distractedly, scribbling down a few words that weren’t obviously schoolwork on a blank piece of paper.

“Ah, it’s you! Nakajima Yuto-san!” a surprised voice said. Yuto looked up to see the waiter staring at him in recognition. He blinked, trying to remember where he saw him before.

“We met in that poetry slam? Uh, your friend tore your poem from your notebook and asked me to give it to Yamada-kun?” he said.

“Ah! Inoo-san…? Yuto said cautiously, relieved when he nodded.

“I have something for you,” he said. “If you can wait, my shift ends in an hour or so. Drinks on me,” he added, scooping up the menu he had placed in front of Yuto and ignoring his protests.

 

Two hours later brought a text from Chinen saying he forgot they talked about meeting today and something urgent came up, endlessly apologizing and promising to make it up to him. Yuto has just finished sending his reply when Inoo slid into the booth he was in, now decked out in casual clothes and bearing two more iced coffees. He placed one of the coffee cups in front of Yuto.

“I haven’t even finished the one you gave me earlier,” Yuto said lightly, raising the said coffee for Inoo’s inspection.

“Don’t worry, I’m still paying for it,” Inoo said. He looked at the notebook under Yuto’s hand, filled with poems in his large, disorganized handwriting. “So you still write?” he asked conversationally, making Yuto start and self-consciously close his notebook when he noticed where Inoo was looking.

“Yeah… Sometimes I find myself just writing down a lot of stuff when I’m stressed. When I procrastinate, I almost always write,” Yuto said. Inoo nodded, then rummaged in his bag for something.

“Got it,” he said, holding up a small red USB drive and pulling out his laptop. Yuto saw Inoo’s desktop background—him and another guy bent over drafting tables and smiling at the camera—before Inoo plugged in the USB drive and played the video file in it.

“Yamada-kun showed up the next day and I gave him the poem like I said, but I realized I had no way to contact you guys. I asked a friend and he took a video of Yamada-kun’s performances,” Inoo said, waiting for the video to load. “Sorry, my laptop’s a bit ancient, so this might take a while.”

“Performances?” Yuto asked, noticing the plural. Inoo smiled.

“Yamada-kun liked the piece you wrote very much. He didn’t know when you’ll show up to watch a poetry slam so he’s been performing your poem everywhere he goes,” Inoo said. Yuto was about to ask something when the video finally started playing.

 

The video began with a dark stage, the spotlight only showing a microphone stand and the person standing on stage. Yamada was wearing a loose long-sleeved white sweater, and Yuto watched as he stepped forward and began reciting the poem he wrote.

It was his, word for word. But somehow, it became Yamada’s poem as well as he moved through the paces, infusing every letter with emotion. Yuto doubted he could perform this half as well as Yamada did. It was like Yamada made him understand the essence of what he wrote down on paper, that every word now made sense when he said it out loud. And it was also as much as watching Yamada as listening to him perform. Anyone can see the play of emotions in his eyes as he let go of every line, pushing the feelings of the persona in the poem from his heart and out of his chest through his mouth.

There was that word again.

“You made a lot of people cry, you know,” Inoo said quietly. Yuto was staring at the blank laptop screen, the video long over. “Your poem was a huge hit in all the poetry slams Yamada-kun performed it in.”

“That’s because Yamada-kun did such a good job in performing it. The back of a medicine carton would sound like Shakespeare if he read it out loud,” Yuto said. Inoo let out a short burst of laughter.

“You don’t really know, don’t you? The power your words have over people,” Inoo said. He smiled when Yuto shook his head in denial.

“You guys are really something. Say, can I borrow this?” he said, pulling Yuto’s notebook towards him and flipping it to the last page without waiting for Yuto’s answer. He scribbled down a number and an e-mail address before giving it back.

“Call him. I’m sure he wants to thank you for letting him perform your poem,” Inoo said with a smile. Yuto stared at the writing on his notebook, a smile finding its way on his lips.

 

 

 

**2011, SUMMER**

“What do you mean you haven’t called him?” Chinen and Inoo said at the same time. Yuto groaned and buried his face in his arms. The three of them were in the coffee shop; Inoo offered to tutor them for the summer, and Chinen and Inoo hit off pretty well (being Chinen). The both of them have taken an invested interest on Yuto’s contact with Yamada—specifically, its inexistence.

“I can’t just call him! What am I supposed to say?!” Yuto wailed. Chinen casually flipped the book he was holding upside-down and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

“Inoo-chan, please talk to him. I’ll just question my life choices about becoming friends with this guy,” he said. Inoo sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Yuto-kun, I gave you his number and his e-mail address. I’ll even give you his home address if I knew it,” Inoo said. Chinen had recovered and opened Yuto’s bag, sifting through its contents.

“What are you doing?” Yuto asked in a tired voice that spoke of defeat.

“Bullying you into doing something you should have done a long time ago. If I knew you already had his number I would’ve done this sooner,” Chinen said, looking at the line of numbers and typing them into the phone. Yuto patted at his pockets, recognizing too late that Chinen was using _his_ phone.

“How did you get that—why are you always stealing my stuff?!” Yuto said, trying to get his phone back. Chinen swatted his hands away, finished dialing and put the phone on speaker.

“Chinen, I am going to _kill_ you—”

“ _Hello?_ _”_ a voice coming from the phone, heavy with sleep, said. Chinen and Yuto both froze, while Inoo calmly sipped his coffee. “ _Who is this?_ _”_

“Don’t say anything and maybe he’ll just think it’s a wrong number—” Yuto whispered.

“Hello there, Yamada-kun! Sorry, did we wake you?” Inoo cheerfully said, making Yuto groan and Chinen laugh.

“ _Inoo-kun? Did you change numbers? Your number_ _’s not registered…”_ the voice said, stifling a yawn.

“This isn’t my phone! Though it’ll be better if you save this number,” Inoo said mischievously.

“ _Are you drunk again? Whose phone did you use to drunk-dial me this time?_ _”_ Yamada asked. Yuto cleared his throat.

“Um. It’s my phone,” he said nervously.

“ _I am so sorry for Inoo-kun bothering you_ _… um…?”_

“Nakajima. Nakajima Yuto.”

There was silence before the three of them heard a loud thumping sound from the other end of the receiver—like somebody fell out of bed.

 _“Eh? Is this really Nakajima-san? Oh wow,”_ Yamada said, voice obviously filled with awe. “ _Can I just say that I_ _’m extremely honored and grateful to be able to perform your poem?”_

“It’s not like it was a big deal. _I_ should be the one thanking you for making something written that bad sound even remotely acceptable—”

 _“What are you talking about?”_ Even through the phone, the total incredulity in Yamada’s voice still came through. “ _That was one of the best things I_ _’ve ever read.”_

“Yutti, your face is extremely red,” Chinen observed with a small snigger. Face burning, Yuto swept up his phone and left their table, continuing to stammer out his thanks for Yamada and promising to let him read other things he had written out of relative earshot from Inoo and Chinen.

 

 

**2011, AUTUMN**

“Eh? Hikaru, what are you doing here so early? Our shift doesn’t start in three hours,” Inoo said in surprise. Yamada, Chinen and Yuto looked up from the review questions that Inoo gave them to see the person he was addressing; a guy around Inoo’s height, with crooked teeth but a bright smile and nicely built even if he looked skinny.

“The lecture ended early, and I thought I’d wanted to try practicing that latte art I messed up a few days ago,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and taking in the eavesdroppers in his conversation, giving them a little wave. Inoo started and straightened up in his seat, gesturing at the other three.

“How rude of me. Everyone, meet Yaotome Hikaru, artist of all trades. His family owns half of the chain enterprise of this coffee shop, and all the art you can see in this establishment was done by him,” Inoo said, Yuto noting the hint of pride in his voice. Yamada and Chinen’s eyes were shining bright as they all bowed towards Hikaru, while the latter ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Will you quit introducing me like that? _His_ family owns the other half of the coffee shop chain, so it’s not much of a big deal,” he told the others. Inoo grinned and chose not to comment, quickly rattling off their names to Hikaru.

“Wait, I know you two!” he exclaimed when he heard Yuto and Yamada’s names. “You always performed that poem he wrote,” he said to Yamada while gesturing at Yuto. “I’ve always watched you perform when we hold poetry slams here. The both of you are pretty good.”

Both of them shook their heads, instinctively denying the praise directed at them due to the deeply-ingrained humility in them. Hikaru looked at Chinen, who was quietly enjoying his friends’ fame for them. “And I’m sure you’re famous in one way or another. I see you a lot in Arashi live houses.”

“You’re a fan too?!” Chinen asked in obvious delight; anyone liking Arashi was automatically eligible for his friendship. Inoo, Yuto and Yamada laughed as Chinen rapidly shot off questions about Arashi to Hikaru, who was actually starting to look a bit scared.

“Hikaru, that latte art won’t make itself,” Inoo said, rescuing him from another round of Arashi questions. Hikaru shot him a grateful look and waved to the others before going behind the counter and tying an apron around his waist. Yamada was looking around the coffee shop in admiration.

“Wow, Yaotome-san is a really good artist,” Yamada said.

“He was personally scouted by our university’s theater organization to help paint the backdrops needed for plays,” Inoo said proudly. “The theater organization of our school is pretty famous inside and outside the campus, so it’s a really great honor to be chosen like that. Sometimes he ropes me in to help in the stage design.”

“I remember where I saw him before!” he exclaimed, making everyone else look at him in surprise. He turned to Inoo. “He was the other guy with you in that picture on your desktop, right?”

Chinen and Yamada turned to Inoo, whose face had turned into an interesting shade of crimson. “Don’t say anything to him about that,” was his only reply.

Call it subtle threatening, but it felt as if the mock exam Inoo gave them afterwards was noticeably harder than the ones he gave them before.

 

 

 

**2012, AUTUMN**

“You guys sure you’ve got everything you need?” Inoo asked them for the fifth time. “Exam permits, extra pencils, erasers, enough brain cells—?”

“You’re making the kids nervous, Kei-chan,” Hikaru said with a quiet laugh before turning towards the three of them. “You guys will be fine. Just be careful when answering okay?”

Yuto, Yamada and Chinen all answered in varying forms of affirmation, but they still looked nervous. They had a right to be nervous; it was the first university admissions exam they were going to take, and by some miracle all three of them were seated next to each other. Even Chinen looked a little brittle today, his usual confident jokes not making any appearances. Yamada was clutching a handmade _omamori_ in his left hand, and Yuto was unconsciously tapping his fingers on his thigh to a beat only he could hear. Inoo and Hikaru straightened into attention, saluting all three exam-takers.

“Ganbatte ne. Itterashai!” they said. The three returned their salutes with smiles on their faces. Inoo watched them walk towards the exam venue with a wistful smile—Yuto and Chinen wearing the blazers of their school uniform and Yamada in his gakuran—as Hikaru chuckled beside him.

“You look like you’re sending off your own kids,” Hikaru observed with amusement. Inoo lightly elbowed Hikaru’s arm.

“It kinda feels that way. You’re the same too,” Inoo said. Hikaru smiled and nodded in quiet agreement.

 

 

 

**2012, WINTER**

“It’s okay Chinen, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Yuto said reassuringly.

“Easy for you to say. At least you’ll have a lot of familiar faces with you,” Chinen mumbled. They were in their regular booth at the coffee shop, and Chinen had all the acceptance letters he received. Yuto’s acceptance letter was tucked safely into his drawer at home; he was going to be in the same university that Inoo and Hikaru are studying in.

“Suzuka-chan’s going to Keio too, right? She’s one of the best familiar faces anyone could ask for; I’d be relieved if I saw her in campus in a sea of strangers. You’ll be fine, Chii, I’m sure of it,” Yuto said. Chinen sighed.

“We’re taking a few classes together, so I’m not exactly alone and it’s nice but… I’ll be lonely,” Chinen said in a low voice. “It’s the first time I won’t be with Yutti ever since kindergarten.”

“It’s not like I’m going to disappear on you, Chii; I’ll just be in a different school. We could still meet.”

“Yeah,” Chinen said, sounding wistful. “But it’s going to be different when you’re not just seated next to me.”

Yuto nodded, a sad smile on his face. He’s going to miss Chinen terribly, but it was no use making him feel sadder than he already is. Chinen took a deep breath and made a goofy face, breaking the somber atmosphere in their table. He kicked lightly at Yuto’s shoes, missing on purpose and getting his chair.

“At the very least, you’ll have Yama-chan with you,” Chinen said with a tenfold smile. Yuto blushed but didn’t retaliate.

“Did I hear my name?” a voice said. Yuto and Chinen looked up to see Yamada, unwrapping a scarf around his face. Chinen grinned at Yuto’s panic-stricken expression and shrugged.

“Maybe,” Chinen said.

“That makes me curious,” Yamada said, taking the seat in front of Yuto. “Yuto-kun, are you sick? Your face is bright red.”

Chinen chuckled quietly as Yuto’s hands flew up to cover his face. “I—just—bathroom,” he said, scrambling up from his chair. Yamada ordered a large hot cappuccino and leaned back on his chair.

“Ne, Ryosuke,” Chinen suddenly said. Yamada started at Chinen using his first name, but it wasn’t particularly bothering him since it _was_ Chinen so he let it slide.

“Hm?”

“About Yutti…” Chinen said, pausing when Yamada’s drink arrived. He made sure the waitress was out of hearing range before talking again.

“About Yutti… please take care of him in university,” Chinen said formally. “I worry about that guy.”

Yamada wrapped his hands around his mug of coffee, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. He took a sip before replying.

“Of course I will.”

Chinen inclined his head slightly. “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.”

 

Yuto found them laughing about something when he went back to the table, spending ten minutes in the bathroom to make sure his face wasn’t as red as a traffic light.

“Were you talking about me?” Yuto said, nervously eyeing Chinen. It was Yamada, however, who smiled and replied.

“Maybe.”

 

 

 

**2013, SPRING**

“Come on Yama-chan, just _pick_ one,” Yuto said exasperatedly. They were at the bedding linens section of IKEA for the past fifteen minutes, Yamada standing undecided with two similar-looking bedsheets in his hands.

“It’s not exactly easy!” Yamada said defensively. Yuto sighed and plucked the black and white bedsheets on Yamada’s right hand, chucking it into the pushcart and walking forward.

“Hey!” Yamada said, catching up with the pushcart. “What if I don’t like that one?”

“You’ll get over it. Plus we have a lot of things we need to buy,” Yuto said, pausing in front of a curtain display. Yamada pouted and chucked a pillow at Yuto’s head. Yuto looked at him and burst out laughing at his expression.

“C’mon Yamada, you were looking at that bedsheet longer. Let it go,” he said, still chortling. Yamada cracked a smile and looked at the pushcart’s contents, the assorted home necessities and things they don’t need to buy but somehow found their way into the pushcart because they were ‘pretty to look at’. Also Yuto picked the bedsheets that matched the ones he picked.

“Fine. But you’re treating me for lunch.”  
“I almost always do, anyway.”

 

After they finished arranging their sofa, mounted their humongous TV on the wall mount (the only luxury they both agreed on getting, for a future of countless movie marathons and video game tournaments), and carried all their appliances into the apartment, they sat in their small terrace and looked out into the Tokyo night sky, surprisingly clear enough to see stars. They broke out cans of mango juice between them, drinking to the first step towards their adulthood and independence.

“To the future!”

“To our dreams!”

“To us!” Yamada said, the light coming from inside their apartment making the sweat in his hair glisten. Yuto smiled and clinked his can to Yamada’s.

“Yeah,” he said, making Yamada smile. “To us.”

 

 

 

**2013, AUTUMN**

“You are so lame at video games, Yamada-kun,” Hikaru crowed, sending Yamada’s character to high-definition-pixel gaming heaven. Yamada threw a pillow at his direction but missed, only making Hikaru laugh harder.

“If you ever break anything I’m making you eat on paper plates, _then_ make you eat the paper plates after,” Inoo scolded, setting down the plates he had in his hands. He and Yuto picked the short straws for preparing dinner for today so he cooked his usual tuna and mentaiko pasta in white sauce, with Yuto eagerly helping in any way he could. The latter emerged from the kitchen, bearing the other two plates in his hands and an assortment of condiments tucked in his arms. Yamada jumped up from his seat and hurried to help Yuto carry things he had in his arms the rest of the way to the table. Hikaru approached the table as well after pausing the game that Yamada had earlier abandoned. Inoo swatted away the hand that Hikaru was extending towards the small bowl of grated cheese (prepared by Yuto, it was a small yellow mountain of shaved cheese good for ten people) with a wooden spoon.

“Please don’t bring your disgusting table manners when we’re in company and wash your hands first before eating,” Inoo admonished, brandishing the wooden spoon near Hikaru’s face but still with enough humor in his voice to let everyone know that he didn’t really mean it. Hikaru sulked but followed suit, making Yamada and Yuto chuckle and causing Inoo to wave the wooden spoon at them.

“You guys wash your hands too,” he said, in a more lenient tone than what he used on Hikaru. They went into the kitchen, Yamada making sure they were out of earshot before pulling down Yuto by the collar to whisper in his ear. Yuto just hoped the blush that he felt spreading across his face wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was.

“Those two… are they…?”

Yuto nodded. “Inoo-kun just sort of casually mentioned it,” he said with a smile.

Yamada grinned back. “That was what he told me before he K.O.’d me in the game,” he said.

“Admit it, Yama-chan, you’re a really lousy player.”

“I just don’t have enough practice!” he said mock-indignantly, splashing a bit of water at Yuto’s direction. Yuto was about to retaliate, but Inoo was already calling for them to eat.

When everyone has passed Inoo’s inspection, they all crowded around Yamada and Yuto’s two-seater dining table and digged in. Inoo stared in horror as Yuto showered his pasta with cheese and cheerfully began eating. Yamada silently handed Yuto a napkin without the latter asking for it, and Inoo and Hikaru watched as Yuto grunted out his thanks around his full mouth before swallowing and saying “thanks”, pouring Yamada an unprompted glass of juice. Yamada drank then paused, glass halfway back from his lips, noticing Inoo and Hikaru’s stares.

“You two are like an old married couple,” Hikaru said, a small smile playing on his lips. Yuto choked on his intensely cheesy pasta as Inoo quietly took away Yamada’s glass from his hand before he dropped it.

“W-we’re not—”Yamada began, the reddening of the tips of his ears spreading to the rest of his face.

“I-it’s not like we’re _married_ or anything—”Yuto said at the same time, clamping his mouth shut when he realized they were talking over each other. Inoo gave him the glass he got from Yamada, and Yuto drained the contents without realizing it wasn’t his glass to begin with.

“Relax, I was just kidding,” Hikaru said, a little surprised at how the two people he was teasing reacted that way. He caught Inoo’s eye and caught his expression, nodding minutely before quietly going back to his food. Soon Inoo had steered the conversation away from awkward waters, nudging Hikaru’s elbow under the table.

 

Hikaru and Yamada went back to beating each other up virtually while Yuto and Inoo wash the dishes (after losing from five rounds of janken for clean-up duty).

“That was pretty obvious, even for you Yuto-kun,” Inoo observed. Yuto quickly looked around to check that both Yamada and Hikaru (most especially Yamada) were not lot listening to their conversation, but the reassuring sounds of video game action told them that the other two were otherwise preoccupied. Turning the plate he was drying in his hands, he sighed and hung his head.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled, face turning pink. Inoo chuckled benevolently.

“No need to say sorry to me, but aren’t you supposed to tell the concerned party what you feel?” Inoo asked.

“I haven’t had the opportunity…”

“You _live_ together. That usually comes pretty far into most relationships, and yours hasn’t even started yet,” Inoo pointed out diplomatically. He was wise enough not to say anything along the lines of how “it wouldn’t hurt if you tell him”.

Probably because he knows this is never easy.

Yuto stared at the plate he has more than amply dried, saying the words that he had stored up long ago in his heart.

“I can’t put an end to something that hasn’t even started yet,” he said. “I’m too scared to think about the after I can’t even bring myself to face him in the present.”

The both of them were quiet until Inoo playfully flicked a few droplets of water at Yuto’s cheek, breaking the invisible wall of tension hanging between them.

“All I’m saying is that I think it’s unfair for the both of you. I’m not judging you,”” he added, sensing that Yuto was tensing up beside him and holding up his soapy hands to explain. “And I totally understand that it’s hard to tell someone you like them.” He waited for Yuto to deny it, but his silence told him that he was at least hearing Inoo out.

“But not giving yourself the chance to be happy is unfair. So is the assumption that you would stop being important to each other if he rejects you, or even if he doesn’t then you guys would end up breaking up anyway and you would stop acknowledging each other’s existence. Do you not trust him enough that you would go so far as to automatically think that he would break your heart? Do you not trust him?”

Yuto’s hands were shaking so bad he had to put down the plate he was holding before he could let it slip past his fingers and break it. His voice was soft, on the verge of something, when he spoke again.

 

“It’s not that I don’t trust him. The one I don’t trust is myself.”

 

 

**2014, WINTER**

“Tadaima…” Yuto called out from the entrance hall. The lights were off, but he could hear the faint sounds coming from the television. He walked quietly to the living room to find Yamada sprawled on the sofa, appearing to have fallen asleep in the middle of a Harry Potter marathon. The penultimate movie was just ending, and he decided he might as well watch the last movie. Pulling out his laptop, he settled onto the rug in front of the TV, his laptop on the coffee table and his back against the sofa Yamada was sleeping on. He watched the movie while writing up a few ideas of stories he thought up on the commute home, but he was distracted. His mind kept coming back to his conversation with Chinen earlier that day.

 

“I guess I should tell you that I have a girlfriend now,” Chinen said without preamble as he sat down at their usual booth in the coffee house. Yuto choked on his iced coffee, the message too sudden for him to maintain any attempt at calm.

“W-what?!” Yuto said, when he had stopped coughing and had enough air for talking. Chinen laughed at the disbelieving expression in Yuto’s face.

“Don’t look like it’s the end of the world, Yutti. Our friendship won’t change. Ah, but please understand that I’d want to spend more time with my girlfriend,” he said with a wide grin, the statement said with such sweetness that there was practically a heart affixed at the end of it. Yuto couldn’t help but laugh at this sudden turn of events.

“Just. Wow. Congratulations,” he said sincerely, once he got over the initial shock. “Who’s the lucky girl that you love more than yourself?”

At this, Chinen looked down and smiled shyly. “You know her.”

“What? Who?!”

“Suzuka-san,” he said, and Yuto forgot he was reaching for a cookie as he gaped at his friend.

“Suzu—You mean Ohgo Suzuka-chan? Our high school classmate and friend, _that_ Suzu-chan?” he said, his eyes wide.

“Yes, her, and if you weren’t my friend I could have punched you by calling her by her first name so casually. How many girls do we know with the same name?” he said, but underneath the calm and joking exterior Yuto could sense something else.

“Just—wow. How—” Yuto began, then noticed Chinen’s face. “Are you _blushing?_ ”

“Shut your face,” Chinen mumbled, chewing on a cookie to avoid answering Yuto’s question, even if the color his face had was more than enough proof. Yuto sat back and took a sip from his drink.

“Wow,” he said, staring at his blushing friend in awe. “ _Wow._ _”_

“Stop saying that,” Chinen groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have cheered you on if I’d known—”

“No you won’t. You’d probably be guilty and never want to see me again,” Chinen interrupted.

“What?”

Chinen sighed. “Nothing, forget about it… Just… I might have been a bit too lucky with the circumstances,” he said. When he didn’t continue immediately, Yuto leaned back into his seat but didn’t prompt him, letting him talk at his own pace. Seeing that Yuto wasn’t going to budge, Chinen sighed and kept on talking.

“We’ve had a lot of the same classes since we had the same major and all, and since we were friends to begin with, we ended up talking a lot. We studied together most of the time too. It was hard for us to talk to strangers, so…” Chinen said, trailing off. Yuto nodded in understanding; Chinen may not look like it, but he was very shy among strangers.

“So we got to talking about life during high school, and then she suddenly said that she’s graduating from her unrequited high school love. She said she told me because she knew I’d understand, because I know the person. She cried and I was sort of there and… I sort of… hugged her… trying to comfort her…” Chinen said, voice growing softer with every word. Yuto grinned and sipped at his drink.

“Say something,” Chinen said. Yuto looked at him

“You don’t have to feel guilty, about anything” he suddenly said.

Chinen didn’t say anything, but he bit his lip as Yuto continued talking.

“I’m sure she told you how she felt because she trusts you. Trust is always a good foundation for love to start. No matter the circumstances, don’t get it to your head that she chose you just because you happened to be there. You were there for her, and that’s what matters. Even if you weren’t her first choice then, you are her first choice now, so don’t doubt your feelings for each other.”

“…Aren’t you even going to ask me who she liked first?” Chinen said, looking at Yuto with a sad smile. Yuto shook his head.

“I’m happy for the two of you. Really. Congratulations,” he said sincerely. Chinen let out a breath that he didn’t knew he held and finally cracked a smile, silently thanking Yuto.

“So, enough about me, you’re supposed to be the agenda of this meeting,” Chinen said, grinning at the opportunity to be the one doing the teasing. “How are things with you and Ryosuke?”

“Why is everyone asking about us?” Yuto said, the tips of his ears reddening as he put down his drink. Chinen raised his eyebrow at his friend.

“Are you _seriously_ asking me that question? You’re living together—”

“As flatmates—”

“You study at the same university, and you’ve been in love with the guy for the past four years, even if you didn’t realize it until very recently. I’ve seen you guys flit around each other but always drawing back _even_ if you two are the most obvious people in the world. As your friend and one of the people most invested in your good futures, how am I _not_ qualified to ask if you two have finally told each other how you felt?” Chinen said, taking a deep breath. Seeing that he probably had a lot more to say, Yuto hastily held up his hands in defeat.

“Okay, _okay_ fine,” he said, then sighed. “This is going to sound like a lame excuse, but it really is scary. I’ve been thinking how to tell him, but every word sounds wrong. It’s… really hard,” Yuto finished lamely. Chinen sat back but didn’t disagree.

“I think… it’s okay to be scared. But if you keep being scared, nothing will happen. You’re just going to be stuck in that standstill, being allowed to love but only from a distance,” Chinen said. He looked at Yuto straight in the eye, and the last thing he said before he had to go still went back and forth through his head.

“You might be okay because he’s still there, and maybe you’ll think you can tell him any time, but you never know.

 

Yuto was shaken from his reverie when he felt Yamada shifting in his sleep on the sofa behind him. He could feel Yamada’s soft breath against the nape of his neck and he swallowed. The movie ended quite some time ago, and the only light in the room came from the screen of Yuto’s laptop.

“Yuto-kun…?” Yamada mumbled, his voice thick with sleep like that time many years ago when they first talked.

“Hm?” Yuto answered quietly.

“Tadaima,” he said sleepily, snuggling into the depths of the couch so his hair touched the back of Yuto’s neck.

“Ne… Yama-chan… can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“Hypothetically… if this were a dream, and I told you I like you, would you not want to wake up anymore?” he said, not daring to turn his head. He felt rather than heard Yamada’s soft intake of breath.

“…I wouldn’t hate Yuto-kun at all. You’re very important to me,” he said softly. Nothing in the room stirred, the only thing making a sound was the clock doing its own business, ticking away. The light from his laptop blinked close, its battery drained, plunging them into near darkness right after Yuto asked his next question.

“…then, hypothetically, is there a world where you’ll like me back?”

Yamada was silent, until Yuto felt something soft press against his neck. He felt every word Yamada spoke on the knobs of his spine on his neck as he waited with bated breath, waiting for the words the lips against his neck would form.

 

“Can I wake up from my hypothetical dream so I can kiss you, then?”

 

 

 

**2015, SPRING**

“Awww, look at you guys. You’re so adorable,” Hikaru said, going to their table to serve their drinks. Yamada grinned up at him, too happy to argue, while Yuto leaned back, arm still casually hooked around the back of Yamada’s chair.

“Where’s Inoo-kun?” he asked, accepting his coffee. Hikaru pointed to his heart with a grin, and Yamada threw a paper napkin at his direction.

“The two of you are so disgustingly happy, it’s beyond cute,” he said.

“Everything is cute when you’re in love,” Hikaru quipped, winking at the two of them before going back behind the counter. Yamada grinned before looking down at the script he had in front of him, his smile dimming for a bit. Noticing this, Yuto gently chucked Yamada under the chin.

“Hey… You’ll be fine, trust me,” he said, grinning.

Yamada nodded and smiled, leaning back into his seat. Yuto can feel the warmth of his back through the arm of his sweater. He watched as Yamada leaned forward and pulled his notebook towards them, placing it on top of the script.

“What are you writing about?” he asked, peering through his glasses at the jumble of words that only Yuto can string together to form into the beautiful stories he writes. Yuto chuckled.

“Us.”

 

**2015, SUMMER**

“I wrote something,” Yuto suddenly said. Yamada stirred sleepily from his place, head pillowed on Yuto’s lap. It was summer break, and rather than going to the beach they decided to stay in their apartment, the freezer fully stocked with cartons of ice cream and the air conditioner on at full blast.

“Oh?” he said, perking up and now wide awake. Yuto had his laptop open beside him, and he handed it to Yamada without a word. Putting on his glasses, he blinked at the rows of text.

“This isn’t a poem,” he whispered to himself in realization, looking at Yuto. The latter made a show of shrugging nonchalantly, but his cheeks were tinged with a shade of pink.

“I’ve had this idea for a while, and it felt like it had to be written to be longer than a poem, so… I kinda… wrote a novel,” he said shyly. Yamada’s face broke into a huge smile.

“That’s awesome! You’ve always said you wanted to write a novel,” Yamada said excitedly. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and moved to sit down on the floor, placing the laptop on the coffee table and leaning back on Yuto’s legs. Yuto smiled and opened his notebook, intending to write while waiting for Yamada to finish reading. Yamada was murmuring the words to himself, occasionally smiling and laughing softly at some of the funny parts. But most of the time he was silent, the only clues to his reactions the rise and fall of his chest that he felt on his legs.

Yuto smiled as the words wrote themselves down on the page, words that only Yamada can bring out of him.

 

_We_

  _are on fire_

_freezing cold and electric_

_and all the impossible things_

_that could ever happen_

_existing in two human bodies_

_locked in the fiercest of embraces_

_Of heat_

_and everything_

_that was supposed to break them_

_in pieces_

_and_

_still_

_they_

_are_

_whole_

He didn’t know how long he had fallen asleep, but he felt the warm body that pressed against his side. The weight leaning on his legs had disappeared, and he felt the warmth beside him shift with him as he slowly came to consciousness.

“I really liked it,” Yamada whispered into his ear.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling.

They fell asleep together in the most disorganized of ways, all tangle of legs and arms and in-sync heartbeats and warm, warm bodies. But they were in each other’s arms, and there were no nightmares that would dare come.

**2015, WINTER**

“That tickles!”

“Quit _fidgeting_!”

“Y-Yama-chan, what are you doing—”

“I’m taking your tie off, what does it look like?”

“W-wait—I _told_ you that tickles!

“If you stop _wriggling_ all the time, this would be a lot easier!”

Yuto opened his mouth to whine some more but thought better about it, shutting his mouth. He and Yamada were both dressed in tuxedos, and Yamada was fixing his bow tie for him.

“Why does it have to be black tie formal? Do we really have to go?” Yuto grumbled, trying to keep still.

“Because it’s our friend’s art exhibit at a swanky art gallery with a lot of possible patrons and we don’t want to embarrass him,” Yamada replied, finishing the bow tie and smoothing out the crinkles in Yuto’s suit jacket. “There. You look handsome enough.”

“Enough,” Yuto said, sounding amused. Yamada angled a smile at his direction.

“It’s my way of saying you look really attractive without embarrassing myself,” he said. Yuto put his hands to his heart.

“You and the way you use your words,” he said, grinning at Yamada. Yamada playfully punched him on the arm as they prepared to go out. The art gallery was mercifully a few blocks away so they can walk; they would have to share a taxi and pay the exorbitant rates otherwise. Shrugging on their coats, they went down and started walking to the gallery.

“It’s so cool. Hikaru-kun has an art exhibit already… to think that about a year ago he was vandalizing our practice tests with image characters that he made for us,” Yuto said. Yamada laughed and nodded, agreeing. 

“Time really goes by so fast,” Yamada said wistfully. The night air was chilly and they walked closer together, elbows occasionally touching.

 

As a prelude to the night’s art exhibit, Inoo, Yuto and Yamada orchestrated a simple introductory performance for the guests. Yuto wrote a poem based on a piece of music Inoo composed and Yamada performed it for the dumbstruck crowd, Inoo playing the composition that served as its inspiration softly in the background. Every single one of Hikaru’s works were sold to very happy patrons, and he was soon pulled aside for talks about a series of exhibits and his own work studio by one of the very impressed patrons. And even years later, people still talked about the music to be heard, the words written down that were spoken that night, of one performance by three different people being together under framed canvases and the warmth undisturbed by the cold Tokyo night, and how they enveloped everyone in the love that each of them felt.

 

_A line appears from different points_

_Connecting you and me_

_From the pureness of oblivion_

_to the confusion of choices_

_of color and theme and tone and style_

_How can one really express_

_emotions that refuse_

_the very names we try_

_to imprison them in?_

_The curves that separate_

_the happy from the sad_

_are not so different_

_from the twists and turns_

_of the roads we took_

_just to find each other_

_If your arms_

_would forever be_

_the only thing_

_that shapes my heart_

_into its ability to love_

_and holding my spine together_

_with the warmth_

_only you can bring_

_Let my hands form_

_the link between you_

_and I_

_and all the beautiful things_

_this world has to offer_

_As we paint the world_

_in a sea of colors_

_happy and sad_

_and all the other words_

_we use for emotions_

_All the while knowing_

_that our eyes_

_and the ridges at our fingertips_

_are the bridges_

_to hearing the codes_

_struck in the unfailing rhythm_

_Of our two hearts_

_beating as one_

_Strong and steady_

_with the feeling_

_of having found_

_the most beautiful thing_

_that all of art_

_has tried and failed to be_

_The mystery_

_of finding the person_

_coloring in all the lines_

_of all your points_

_as a person_

_Forming the red line_

_between you_

_and the person_

_who gives you the meaning_

_of what you always imagined_

_love_

_to_

_be_

 

 

 

**2016, SPRING**

“Tadaima,” Yamada’s voice echoed faintly from the entrance hall. He found Yuto sitting cross-legged on the rug, pushing his glasses up his face as he squinted at Yamada.

“Okaeri, Yama-chan,” he said, yawning and rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Let me heat up dinner for you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Yamada began to protest, but Yuto was already standing up and heading towards the kitchen. He looked at the mess on the coffee table as he dropped his bag on the sofa and sat down—crumpled up pieces of paper with discarded ideas, more scratch paper filled with hundreds of words, cups of instant noodles and an empty bento box, and a couple of mugs half-filled with cold, stale coffee.

“When did you even last sleep, Yuto-kun?” he asked, trying to keep the worry in his voice to a bare minimum. Yuto wandered into the living room with a tray in his hands, and Yamada quickly stood up to get it for himself. Yuto swayed alarmingly for a moment but was able to sit down on the floor again without at least keeling over.

“I dunno… uh, last night?” he answered vaguely.

“What’s the date today?”

“…Uh, May 6th?”

“…it’s May 8, Yuto-kun.”

“…Oh.”

“You haven’t slept for two days?!” Yamada said incredulously. Yuto blinked several times—then yawned.

“I was writing… I guess I lost track of time,” he said, his speech slow from lack of sleep. Yamada placed the tray on the table—careful not to touch any of the papers on it—and led him by the arm to the room they shared. Yuto crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes, and Yamada went out to eat the dinner Yuto prepared for him. He also cleared up the empty food packages and coffee mugs on the coffee table, leaving all the papers untouched. After he cleaned up and got changed, he quietly went back to their room. Slipping under the covers, he watched Yuto as he slept.

“Yama-chan…?” he whispered, blinking his eyes open when he sensed his presence.

“Hm?”

Yuto smiled, pointing to the clock hanging on the opposite wall. When Yamada turned his head, Yuto quickly kissed him on the cheek. Yamada turned his head quickly, bumping his nose and forehead with Yuto’s and blushing bright red.

“W-what was that about all of a sudden?” Yamada asked, flustered. Yuto grinned.

“Midnight. Happy birthday Yama-chan,” he said shyly. Yamada smiled and kissed the tip of Yuto’s nose.

“Thank you. For everything,” Yamada said.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, lips locked in a loose embrace—Yuto’s against Yamada’s forehead, Yamada’s on a spot under Yuto’s jaw. They dreamed with the ease of people who knew that they were in the safest place in earth they could ever be.

 

 

 

**2016, SUMMER**

“How was the audition at Osaka?” Yuto asked. Yamada quietly shook his head.

“They said I was a bit short for what they imagined for the character,” he said glumly, and Yuto, who knew all of Yamada’s complexes, inwardly winced.

“How about you? Did you hear from anyone?” Yamada asked.

Yuto thought of the thick sheaf of papers that he received in the mail earlier, hidden under the junk at the bottom of his desk drawer, and shook his head. Yamada smiled sympathetically.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Yuto-kun would hear good news soon. Let’s do our best together, okay?”

Yuto swallowed, trying to speak around the lump of guilt building in his throat.

“Okay.”

 

“You have to tell him,” Chinen said in disbelief the next day. Hikaru and Inoo were seated across from them in their usual booth, but no one has touched their drinks except for Yuto. He was a caffeine-riddled bundle of nervous, guilty energy.

“I can’t. It’s not like I’ll pass the interview anyway; it’ll be useless to worry him needlessly,” he said, speaking to his coffee cup.

“But Yuto, it’s an overseas scholarship for a creative writing program. It’s your _dream_! You would have to at least let him know,” he said exasperatedly. A part of Yuto’s brain registered that Chinen didn’t call him by his nickname; he was absolutely serious.

But so was Yuto.

“No. I’m thinking of rejecting the interview anyway,” he said, still refusing to look anyone in the eye.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Chinen half-shouted, causing a few of the customers to swivel their heads and look at him. Frustrated, Chinen turned to the other two people seated around their table. “A little help here, guys?” Chinen asked.

Inoo lifted his cup to his lips to take a sip. Hikaru sighed. “I think Chinen-kun has a point, Yuto-kun. Won’t you at least tell him? It’s his right to know; it concerns him too, in a way,” he said. Yuto lifted his chin stubbornly and shook his head.

“You are being extremely selfish,” Inoo suddenly said. Yuto involuntarily jerked his head up in surprise to look at Inoo.

“Kei-chan,” Hikaru said in a warning tone. Inoo ignored him and set down his coffee cup, looking directly at Yuto.

“You think you’re being considerate of Yamada-kun, but in reality you’re just scared that you might break up over this. What if you pass? How would you explain to Yamada-kun that you’re suddenly leaving?” Inoo asked Yuto bluntly. He bit his lip, but Inoo kept on talking.

“Do you think he would be happy that you’re simply going to throw away your dream, even if it’s for the sake of your relationship? Don’t you think he’ll feel responsible either way?” Inoo didn’t shout or even raise his voice, but the cold anger in his voice unnerved Yuto more than anything else.

“Kei, that’s enough,” Hikaru said quietly. Yuto felt Chinen’s hand on his shoulder and something wet dripping onto his fisted hands on his lap, belatedly realizing they were his tears. He blindly groped for tissue and a warm hand with slender pianist fingers placed a handkerchief in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Inoo murmured graciously. Yuto nodded his head once.

“I’m sorry too,” he mumbled, shaking his head emphatically from side to side to illustrate this point. The other three gave him time to calm down and gulp up the rest of his coffee before standing up.

“I’m going home,” he said abruptly, moving to pay for the check. Hikaru waved him away, a reassuring smile on his face.

“It’ll work out. We all believe in it.”

He bowed deeply to all of them, meeting Inoo’s eye when he straightened up. The older guy nodded, and Yuto turned to  go home.

 

 

 

**2016, SUMMER**

“He’s looking especially murderous today,” Chinen reported. Yuto groaned quietly, then looked around to check if anyone heard him. He was checking the inventory in his part-time job at a small bookstore, and he had ducked behind a layer of bookshelves to take Chinen’s call.

“Good luck then. I hope he doesn’t shoot you faster than his normal record,” Yuto replied. Chinen laughed it off.

“It’s not like we’re going into actual battle, Yutti; it’s called survival game for a reason,” Chinen said. Yuto nodded, then remembered that Chinen couldn’t see him and grunted noncommittally.  He sighed after a few moments, interrupting Chinen’s soliloquy about Arashi’s new album.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. For everyone else too,” Yuto said, leaning his forehead against a bookshelf. Chinen was quiet for a few moments before speaking again.

“We’re friends with Ryosuke too. It’s not like we’re just doing this for you,” he said lightly. Yuto smiled at the concern in his friend’s voice.

“Thank you.”

 

His shift lasted until closing time, and he just closed up the shop with the rest of the other part-timers. Stretching his sore muscles, he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed him. He was sitting by himself on one of the benches near the bookstore entrance, and when he saw that he was noticed he stood up. Yuto jogged to where he had been waiting and came to a stop in front of him, pausing uncertainly because he didn’t know what to say.

 

“…Hey,” he said, trying to break the tension. Yamada looked up to his face when he spoke, and Yuto had to struggle to keep his face straight.

_He looks so tired._

“…Hey. Let’s walk?” Yamada said quietly. Yuto nodded. They proceeded in silence down the five blocks that separated the bookstore and the apartment complex that Yuto had come to think of as home.

 

_There was a type of silence_

_of pins and needles_

_and the undoing of comfort_

_But then there were moments_

_when all I need to feel_

_was the distant nearness_

_of the warmth_

_of your hand_

_sometimes brushing mine_

_Or a planetarium of dying stars_

_and big bangs over our heads_

_to remember_

_that we are here_

_but for this moment_

_And for all the explosions_

_that reality has to offer_

_the distance of your shoulder to mine_

_of my lips to yours_

_or of our hands touching_

_may be farther_

_than the nearest star_

_And our silence is as important_

_for me to keep_

_and break_

_And that distance_

_was the only thing_

_I was willing to cross_

_So let the supernovas_

_go off_

_across all of universe_

_I_ _’d rather take_

_your hand in mine_

_even without_

_the warmth_

_or the love_

_than reach for a star_

_and find cold, cold death_

 

They arrived in their apartment without saying a word. Yamada went straight into the kitchen, so Yuto thought it’d be safe to take a bath. After he was done, he stepped outside to their terrace, a towel still draped around his neck. He let the cool summer night breeze dry his hair as he leaned his arms on the railing and looked up at Tokyo’s night sky.

He felt a cold substance press gently into his cheek, and Yuto turned to find Yamada holding up a can of ice-cold beer to his face. Beads of water still glistened in his hair, and a towel was draped over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Yuto said, accepting the can of beer and leaning on the railing once more, pillowing his head on his arms and holding the beer can to his face to enjoy the coolness. He heard Yamada opening his own can of beer beside him and drink down one long gulp.

“Are you okay?” Yuto asked before he could help it, more out of habit and concern than anything else.

“Why’d you ask?” Yamada said, surprised by the sudden question.

“You don’t usually drink unless you’re troubled over something,” Yuto said, a quiet observation brought along by all the years they knew each other and of recent events; when Yamada stopped talking to Yuto a couple of months ago, either Inoo, Hikaru, or Chinen had helped Yuto bring a dead-drunk Yamada home.

Yamada was staring out into the distant Tokyo skyline, the beer can tightly gripped in his hand. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

“I got signed into an agency about a month ago, and though it’s quite sudden, I’ll be part of the main cast of a mystery drama. It’s showed in the golden time slot, so my manager thought that with the other popular actors I’ll be with, this would be probably be the biggest break in my career,” Yamada said, still keeping a humble and incredulous tone, as though he still can’t believe that everything was happening to him. Yuto’s face broke out into a bright smile.

“I knew you’d make it! Congratulations,” Yuto said, smiling brightly. Yamada downed another swig before turning to face Yuto’s direction completely.

“How about you? Did you accept the scholarship?” he asked. Yuto stiffened; he hadn’t even told Yamada that he went to the interview, let alone that he was chosen for the scholarship. Cautiously, he nodded his head. Yamada didn’t reply; instead, he leaned on the bars of the railing next to Yuto, their elbows touching.

“Just when I thought I’ve finally caught up to you, but now you’re farther away from me than ever,” he said sadly.

“W-what do you mean?” Yuto said, confused.

Yamada sighed. “All this time, I’ve always felt like I had to run to catch up to you, to be able to walk by your side. So I’ve always done my best to be someone who can proudly walk beside you.”  
“Ryo-chan, what are you talking about?” Yuto said, not realizing that he had slipped and called Yamada by the nickname he gave him. He plunged on, not giving a chance for Yamada to interrupt.

“If there was anyone that needed to do any catching up, that would certainly be me. You’re just so… I don’t know, there’s no one word to describe how important Ryo-chan’s existence to me. I would never have done anything worthwhile in my life if I didn’t have you, or our friends, giving me all the push I needed to even try stretching out for the things I want. It never felt right to me, until _you_ came along in my life. You made me think trying my best was okay, that wanting something for myself was perfectly normal. And wanting someone to be with me to share everything, _you_ were the reason why anything I ever had in my life started to feel okay.”

Silent tears were coursing down Yamada’s cheeks. He shook his head over and over again.

“No. Don’t say anything. This is just going to make it harder for me when you leave,” he said in between his tears. Yuto chewed on his bottom lip and looked at Yamada, taking him by the shoulders and forcing him to face him. Their beer cans clattered to the ground, the liquid splashing their ankles, but they couldn’t care less.

“Look at me,” Yuto said quietly, leaning forward so he could look at Yamada in the eye. Yamada met his gaze, his eyes still glistening with tears.

“I’m leaving, but I’m not leaving _you._ Remember that. I may be somewhere else, but… I’m here. Okay?” he said, in a rush. Yamada nodded, unable to talk through his tears, and before the both of them fully realized what they were doing their lips were crashing into each other and they were holding each other like they’d break if they ever let go. Pushing, touching, feeling every inch of skin. Fabric fell away, and all that was left were eyes and lips and skin, so many miles of skin and bone and warm flesh, eyelash and earlobe and tongue and throat and hands and fingers and each other.

And that was more than enough.

 

 

 

**2016, AUTUMN**

“I still have that poem, you know,” Yamada whispered, playing with Yuto’s fingers. The absence of Yuto's things in the room stood out. All his belongings have been sent out ahead of him or packed into boxes and suitcases. The scent of his departure is lingering in the room, sad and heavy and a bit hopeful, all the same.

Yuto hoisted himself up on bed, turning to have a proper look at Yamada. “Which poem are you talking about?”

Seeing that Yuto looked confused, Yamada momentarily let go of Yuto’s hand and sat up on the bed, opening his bedside table’s drawer to take a faded out piece of fabric. Yuto recognized it as the handmade _omamori_ that Yamada took with him to their entrance exams. He took extra care to put it in his pocket every time he performed or went to try out for auditions. He watched as Yamada opened a secret pocket and took out a battered piece of folded paper. The creases wore down into the paper, looking like it had been taken out time and again to be read. When he had unfolded it completely, Yuto undestood.

In his hands was the page that Chinen had torn from his notebook, his name that Chinen had also signed for him still legible.

 

_Starting Point_

_Even if I gather_

_all the maps in the world_

_I would still be lost_

_in the sea of emotions_

_that span your face_

_You are the origin_

_of all the things_

_I thought I hated_

_because I never thought_

_I would have to face_

_detours and potholes_

_in the careful navigated travel plan_

_that I thought love would be_

_But you were never the destination_

_to begin with_

_I just got lost_

_in the curves of your lips_

_the way your eyes shift gears_

_with every feeling_

_that crosses your heart_

_The warning signals you give_

_have no use_

_For I have broken the traffic light_

_and every damn rule_

_on the way here_

_Let the others skid and crash behind me_

_Bury their noses and their hearts_

_in the cracked asphalt_

_to your ghost town_

_Because not pulling the breaks_

_when I met you_

_was a car crash waiting to happen_

_All adrenaline and broken hearts_

_Turn the key, hit the gas_

_These things almost never last_

_But I don_ _’t speed up and run away_

_I pull out my key and choose to stay_

_Here I sit_

_in the shoulder of the wrong road_

_on the right way to you_

_Writing down this poem_

_on the back of my parking ticket_

_to remember all I_ _’ve traveled_

_from being just me_

_to being us_

_and remembering_

_how this wrong road_

_led me_

_to the right person_

_I will take the speed bump_

_Again and again_

_If all the wrong roads_

_would lead me_

_to right_

_where you want me_

_Here_

_With you_

_Willing to be lost_

_in the journey_

_we call love_

_For even the wrong_

_starting point_

_got us somewhere_

_Not lost_

_But on our way_

_To me_

_To you_

_To each other_

_To us?_

_To us._

 

 

 

**2020, SPRING**

**_World-famous author Nakajima Yuto_ ** **_’s newest best seller gets movie adaptation!_ **

**_Multi-award winning young actor Yamada Ryosuke confirmed for lead role!_ **

_“…it’s always been an honor to perform any of Nakajima-san’s work. His existence is something I greatly respect and treasure, and being given this opportunity to portray a work of someone who is so passionate about what he does. I will do my best to not disappoint Nakajima-san and the people who would come to watch, so they can invite their friends and family and we could all celebrate the creation of such a beautiful masterpiece.”_

 

The shop door opened, a guy in glasses with a face mask covering half of his features entering. Inoo and Hikaru looked up from the counter and smiled at the newcomer, giving him a wave that he returned. They pointed at a table at the back of the shop—his usual corner. He quietly walked towards the familiar booth, occupied by one person.

 

He was alone in the coffee shop, a regular tucked into a window seat corner with a laptop and papers spread out in front of him. Even the new waitress knew well enough not to disturb him as they quietly refilled his coffee cup and brought his orders to his table (arranged a long time ago with the owner, his favorite meals from the cafe brought at regular intervals and paid for before he leaves). From time to time he looked up from his keyboard, noting the arrival of people into the shop and jotting down details he found interesting.

 

_5:00PM A guy of average stature approaches. He is wearing glasses and a face mask to hide his features, but even if I should ever be blind, I_ _’d recognize him anywhere. He is right on time._

Yuto looked up and smiled. “Hey.”

Yamada pulled down his face mask as he sat down next to Yuto, returning his smile.

 

“Hey.”


End file.
